


I Just Wanted You to Know (This is Me Trying)

by howtosingit



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Communication is Sexy, Feelings, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, an alternate ending to episode 1x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howtosingit/pseuds/howtosingit
Summary: “My words shoot to kill when I’m mad / I have a lot of regrets about that / and maybe I don’t quite know what to say / but I’m here in your doorway”*Carlos makes a nice dinner, TK leaves in a hurry. But then, he comes back. (Immediately follows the 1x02 disaster dinner, not canon compliant.)
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 15
Kudos: 180





	I Just Wanted You to Know (This is Me Trying)

**Author's Note:**

> Taylor Swift made me write this. Title from “This is Me Trying,” my favorite song from Folklore.

\------

Carlos is nearly elbow-deep in soapy water as he scrubs forcefully on the baking dish in the sink. He knows that he could easily let it soak overnight, or put it in the dishwasher, but the nearly-mindless task helps him to calm down, and refocus. Besides, it may be nearly one in the morning, but he’s not falling asleep anytime soon.

His steel blue shirt still hangs open from when TK tried to rip it off of him only an hour before, reminding him that he should try to find the buttons before he steps on one when he’s barefoot. His mind is suddenly assaulted with the phantom feeling of lips on his neck, and he takes a deep breath, dropping the sponge into the water to tightly grip the counter in front of him. That’s the last thing he wants to be thinking about right now. 

He’s upset. Yes, at TK, for walking out without telling him what the fuck he did wrong. For acting like it was such a big deal for them to know something about each other besides what they look like when they come. For throwing his dinner and his feelings back in his face without any regard for what that would do to him.

But more than all of that, he’s mad at himself. He’s mad for always trying so hard, for always pushing people further than they want to go. He’s mad for letting the overwhelming feeling of a connection that followed his hookup with TK drive him to force something deeper between them. He’s an attractive guy with a good job and a nice apartment and a cool car; that’s all men seem to want from him, and he should probably stop expecting anything else. 

It hurts. He’s 26-years-old, he’s known who he is since high school, and it’s not getting any easier. Living in Texas was never going to make being gay a walk in the park, but he doesn’t understand why he can’t find someone who’s willing to put in a little bit of effort. He can’t keep doing this casual string of hookups that feels endless, not when it leaves him feeling more like a shell of a person each and every time.

It felt different with TK. Carlos met him at work, for one. _Here_ , he thought, _is another man who gets it_. Someone else who runs into dangerous situations because he wants to protect people. There was a relief, almost, of not having to worry about whether TK was only interested in him for his uniform, and he let that relief cloud his judgment, turning their brief and flirty interactions into the beginnings of something that was never meant to be. 

Carlos clenches his jaw, reaching back into the soapy water for the sponge. He can feel a slight headache coming on, probably from a combination of the lateness of the hour and the lack of food in his stomach. With a sigh, he gives up on the dishes, quickly drying his hands off on a dish towel. He’ll clean the rest of them in the morning, once he’s had a few hours of sleep. He moves towards the dining room table to grab his phone, when a knock on his front door stops him in his tracks.

He has no idea who would show up at his apartment at nearly one in the morning. For a moment, he hesitates, wondering how he should handle this. He lives in a nice neighborhood, and he’s not afraid of anybody who could be on his doorstep; on the other hand, an unexpected visitor in the middle of the night can only mean bad news, and Carlos feels his heart start to race as his adrenaline kicks in. 

He jumps a bit when his phone vibrates on the table next to him. Glancing down, he sees a text from the last person he ever expected to hear from again.

_It’s me_

Carlos swallows, his heart continuing to pound in his chest as he quickly moves towards the door. He pulls it open, his brows furrowing in complete confusion at the sight of the man before him.

TK stands against a background of darkness, his yellow hoodie bright in the light pouring through the open door. Carlos takes him in, searching for any sign of injury or some other explanation for what’s going on. He notices TK’s hands tucked away inside the front pocket of his sweatshirt, the way he bites down on his bottom lip, and the puffiness around his red eyes.

“TK,” Carlos starts, his voice oddly blank. “What are you doing here?”

The man just stares back at him, his body clearly tense as his eyes shift to look everywhere but directly at him. He feels his own face harden, his frustration mounting at the way that this man makes him feel so damn much, and he’s just about to tell TK to go home when the other man breaks the silence, his voice thin.

“I was in the area and I saw that your light was still on.”

Carlos stares back at him, confusion clear on his face. “You left an hour ago, TK,” he reminds him, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he plants his feet in the doorway. 

“Yeah,” TK admits, and Carlos watches as his green eyes shift down towards his chest; unlike before, he does not let the feeling of TK’s gaze on him affect him. At least not too much. “I, um, I took a walk around, to cool off a bit,” he explains, gesturing towards something in the distance that Carlos can’t see. “You have a really nice park at the end of your street.”

“You mean the park that closed at 10?” Carlos asks, raising an eyebrow. “What is this, are you trying to get arrested or something?”

TK visibly swallows, ducking his head down at Carlos’s chastisement. The act of uncertainty softens the edge he’s feeling, and he takes a deep breath, letting go of some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“Do you want to come inside?” he asks, watching as TK’s head shoots up at the unexpected question. Carlos can’t help the slight smile that pulls at his lips; as much as he wishes it wasn’t the case, he finds TK to be incredibly endearing.

“No, no, that’s okay,” TK hurries to assure him, shaking his head. “It’s late, and I don’t want to keep bothering you. I just,” he huffs, tipping his head back to look up at the clear night sky, “I just really hated the idea of you going to bed angry.”

It’s a statement that doesn’t really make sense to Carlos. Why would TK care if he’s mad or not? But it also makes his stomach twist in a knot, the idea that maybe his initial impression of the firefighter wasn’t entirely incorrect sparking his curiosity. He can’t help but want to know more about this contradiction of a person. 

With a nod, Carlos steps forward onto his front walk, pulling the door closed behind him. The unexpected action causes TK to jump back, giving Carlos space to sit down on his front step. He brings his knees up to his chest, folding his arms on top of them, and stares straight ahead at TK’s shoes.

“I’m more upset than angry,” he admits, rubbing at his brow as he works out what he wants to say, “and most of what I’m feeling isn’t even about you. I mean, there’s a lot of confusion, which is definitely your fault, but the anger is more at myself.”

He sees TK shift in front of him, rocking from side-to-side, before he moves forward to take a seat next to Carlos. A sudden warmth flares up on Carlos’s right side at his proximity, but he tries his best to ignore it. 

“Why would you be angry at yourself?” TK asks gently, and Carlos can picture his face: his brown eyebrows furrowed in confusion above those soft, twinkling green eyes. He wants more than anything to look over at him, drink him in, but he knows he’s just asking for trouble if he does. So, instead, he continues to stare straight ahead.

“Most guys that I meet, they’re kind of just in it for sex,” he replies, bringing his hand up to run through the hair at the back of his head. “Like, I’m not a stranger to casual hookups, even if I really would like something more for myself. But those guys, I usually meet on an app, or at a club, and I try not to have too many expectations.

“I guess just because of the way we first met, the fact that it was different from those others, I made some assumptions about us and what this might mean,” he continues. “I’m sorry that I acted on them and put you in a weird place.”

There’s silence after he finishes speaking, the two of them just sitting side-by-side on his front step at one in the morning. It’s completely bizarre, and Carlos doesn’t really know what’s happening, but he’s not uncomfortable with it. There’s just something about TK beside him that lessens his concerns a little bit.

He’s a little shocked when he feels a weight on his arm, and he looks down to see TK’s fingers curled gently around his bicep. He turns to look at him, unsurprised to find the exact face that he was expecting, furrowed eyebrows and twinkling eyes. It steals his breath from his lungs, the absolute beauty of this man.

“I’m sorry, too,” TK says, his voice quiet. “For not being clear about what I wanted, and then for being an asshole when you couldn’t read my mind.” 

They hold the look for a moment before Carlos nods, staring ahead again as he twists his fingers together in front of him. “Apology accepted.”

“I’m also sorry about the shirt,” TK adds, and Carlos can hear humor behind the words. “I can buy you a new one.”

The image of TK pressed up against him, forcibly tearing his shirt open, flashes through his mind, and Carlos feels his heart rate quicken at the memory. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures him, his voice coming out a little shaky. “My mom taught me how to sew buttons back on.”

From next to him, TK lets out a sudden loud laugh, the sound shooting straight through his chest. He turns to look at him, a smile forming at the look of absolute joy that has taken over TK’s face. “What?” he asks, trying not to laugh, too. It’s a truly weird night.

“Don’t tell me she got so tired of men tearing your clothes off that she forced you to learn how to sew them back together,” TK cries, an odd light dancing in his eyes. 

“Of course not, you jerk,” Carlos says, leaning over to nudge TK in annoyance. “She just wanted me to learn how to do things on my own. Don’t you make fun of my mama, TK Strand.” 

“I would never,” TK says, his grin sliding into a look of intense seriousness. Carlos raises an eyebrow at him, questioning his honesty. TK simply stares back, his eyes still dancing, before shaking his head and lowering his gaze down to his lap. “My god, who are you?” he questions suddenly, his voice rising in what sounds like disbelief. “You cook, you sew, your apartment is fully-furnished, you have a job, you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met, you’re _so fucking nice_. Just, like, how are you even real?”

He ends with a loud groan, his body collapsing against Carlos as he rests his head against his shoulder. Carlos can feel a heat rising up the back of his neck as he stares down at him in shock, having now idea how to answer the man.

“You know, for the record,” TK says after a quiet moment, his head still pressed against Carlos, “I like you for more than just sex.

“I know it probably doesn’t seem like it,” he continues, his voice low, “but it’s true. I know I freaked out on you, it was all just really intense and unexpected and it took me to some bad places that still feel really raw. I thought I could handle just the physical stuff and deal with the emotional baggage later, but it kind of blew up in my face. And yours.”

Carlos listens carefully, trying to fill in the gaps with everything that TK’s not telling him. It’s obvious that TK has some skeletons in his closet, maybe recently gathered, that will help to explain his behavior this evening, but he doesn’t know if he should ask about them. Except, his heart can’t help but cling to TK’s initial declaration, about how he likes Carlos for more than just his body, and that pushes him to take a chance.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he hedges gently, trying not to spook the other man. TK lets out a sigh, shifting against him to prop his chin on top of Carlos’s shoulder, looking up at him. Carlos looks back, their faces close as they study one another. Those green eyes are absolutely stunning. 

“I think I do,” TK admits, bringing his hand up to drag his fingers along Carlos’s jaw. “But it’s a long story, so maybe not tonight. Is that okay?”

Carlos nods before he even has a chance to consider it, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “Yeah, TK, that’s okay. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

He finds that he means that.

Before he can overthink it, he leans up to press a soft kiss at TK’s hairline, hearing the way the action draws a heavy breath from the other man. Slowly, Carlos relaxes back against his front door, wrapping an arm around TK’s waist to pull him closer. The firefighter goes willingly, folding himself against Carlos’s side as his hand comes up to rest against his exposed chest. 

They stay there in the stillness of the Texas night, letting time move on without them. Carlos closes his eyes for a moment as he relishes the opportunity to finally be _more_ for someone, just this once. Just like he’s always wanted.

It’s even better than he expected.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://howtosingit.tumblr.com/)


End file.
